- Ingrown hairs on legs are becoming more inflamed and pronounced.
- First time experiencing "hell week" while on T and although the cramps were still annoying, I ended up not taking my usual amount of ibuprofen (not sure because of the T or pride or both). 2nd day is usually the heaviest/most painful and that is when I keep the generic meds handy, but I decided not to use them. The pain wasn't so bad that I needed to reach for the bottle in a manner of desparation, but it was present. Flow is slightly less than I've noticed in the past as well.
- Continued oiliness in face resulting in more breakouts, but daily facial washing is keeping it to a minimal.
- Trying to record more of my singing voice. While I might miss being able to hit higher notes later on, I don't like how I sound when I "sing like a girl".
- Not sure if I'm actually seeing an increase in arm hair or if I'm just waiting to see it.
- While I'm not sure if my muscle mass has changed much yet, I do somehow feel a little stronger and I am becoming more nervous about increasing abdominal fat. I really should try to work out.
- Leg hairs seem normal. Underarm hairs seem slightly thicker and also seem to grow back faster, but I'm not sure. Am still shaving in those places because it just looks better on me that way. If athletes and male models can shave their body hair, so can I.
Sunday, June 27, 2010
Friday, June 25, 2010
The Highs and Lows of Life and Death
Tuesday, June 22, was my second T shot.
Noticing a definite increase in sex drive. Strange how before T I could fantasize without getting physically aroused by my thoughts, but now I'm finding that just thinking about things manifests themselves physically that makes it increasingly harder for me to control.
Just as fast as that rush hit me, now I find myself crashed up against the rocks somehow. I feel this strange loneliness that I haven't felt in a very long time. I'm not sure why when every day that passes I get closer to living the life that I want. I guess it's true that for every gain there is a loss. The more I see myself as Cyrus, the more I realize that "she" is dead.
And now I remember when the last time I felt this loneliness. I was a little over twelve and a half years old when my uncle passed away. He was the first person that took the time to notice me and actually showed interest in what went on in my mind. He was the first person to allow me to express myself freely without fear of rejection or guilt. Even now I suspect that he knew me better than I knew myself at that age and I sometimes wonder if he had known that I would walk this path.
After a couple of good cries tonight...I realize the root of this pain. I'm in a state of mourning. Mourning the death of a young woman who did not live to see 25. Her favorite color was blue and she had a thing for King Arthur stories. She was a protector of women and ass-kicker of assholes. She wanted to learn hip hop and impress her friends who she assumed didn't take her seriously about wanting to learn how to dance. She had a lot of hope for an awesome future.
Just as I learned to carry my uncle's memory in my heart, I'll hold her memory close to me as well. I will live my life to the fullest for them and for me. I'm grieving now, but I know I won't grieve forever. She wouldn't want me to do that.
Rest in peace...and thank you. For not being afraid to live, learn, laugh, and love.
Noticing a definite increase in sex drive. Strange how before T I could fantasize without getting physically aroused by my thoughts, but now I'm finding that just thinking about things manifests themselves physically that makes it increasingly harder for me to control.
Just as fast as that rush hit me, now I find myself crashed up against the rocks somehow. I feel this strange loneliness that I haven't felt in a very long time. I'm not sure why when every day that passes I get closer to living the life that I want. I guess it's true that for every gain there is a loss. The more I see myself as Cyrus, the more I realize that "she" is dead.
And now I remember when the last time I felt this loneliness. I was a little over twelve and a half years old when my uncle passed away. He was the first person that took the time to notice me and actually showed interest in what went on in my mind. He was the first person to allow me to express myself freely without fear of rejection or guilt. Even now I suspect that he knew me better than I knew myself at that age and I sometimes wonder if he had known that I would walk this path.
After a couple of good cries tonight...I realize the root of this pain. I'm in a state of mourning. Mourning the death of a young woman who did not live to see 25. Her favorite color was blue and she had a thing for King Arthur stories. She was a protector of women and ass-kicker of assholes. She wanted to learn hip hop and impress her friends who she assumed didn't take her seriously about wanting to learn how to dance. She had a lot of hope for an awesome future.
Just as I learned to carry my uncle's memory in my heart, I'll hold her memory close to me as well. I will live my life to the fullest for them and for me. I'm grieving now, but I know I won't grieve forever. She wouldn't want me to do that.
Rest in peace...and thank you. For not being afraid to live, learn, laugh, and love.
Wednesday, June 9, 2010
June 8th = 1st Day on Testosterone
I've been having some really crazy days lately. I wish I could've made a YouTube video of my "First day on T", but considering how behind I've been on vids anyway I'm not feeling too bad about it. A good number of transguys on Youtube are really thorough about documenting their transition, but I guess with everything else I've been going through lately (namely, my first DUI arrest and a recent break up) my motivation has not been there yet. Oh, it also doesn't help that I got my Hepatitis A shot as well and even now it's still hurting my arm.
Anyway, on to the first doctor's visit. I wasn't sure that I was going to get my first shot done that day actually. I was worried about the cost and the fact that I haven't told my dad or most of my coworkers yet, etc. My doctor's assistant told me in the exam room that there is a student that will conduct my briefing interview. I was expecting a med student around my age, but she ended up being older, but probably not by a whole lot. Late 20s to mid 30s maybe? I'm not sure. Older people love me because I always guess younger than they are. That went well and next there was a small physical exam. With all the questions she was asking me, I wondered if I was supposed to say that I was worried that all my saying "No" was actually a bad thing. I honestly didn't know if my mother's side of the family has a history of medical problems, I didn't know whether to mention that I had an uncle who was diabetic, or even if my mild congestion was anything worth concern.
Then I met my doctor who I found out that day is a Reverend in an inclusive Orthodox church. He had his black priest attire under his doctor's coat, which I found really interesting since I've only seen that on TV maybe once or twice. He got my questions answered about self-injecting, the dosage amount, taking androgel if I ever feel the need to, etc. As he was going over the results of my lab work, he mentioned that I am not immune to hepatitis A and asked if I wanted to get the shot for that taken cared of as well. At that time, I also felt the need to ask them about getting a pap smear done since I hadn't done that at all yet.
So there you have it, if yesterday was a book and I had to give it a title it would be called, "Two Shots and a Pap Smear". Personally, the T-shot was the best part of them all, but I guess I'm pretty biased about that anyway right? LOL
Oh speaking of which, it's a 200 mg dose shot administered every two weeks. It felt like a rush of cold water into my butt actually. Of course, there's no immediate effects, but for some reason I did feel calmer. Probably just relieved that I'm finally getting this started. I also found out that while the office my doctor works at deals strictly with transgender and HIV patients, I'm only the 3rd or 4th FtM their office has had. Majority of their transgendered patients are MtFs. As happy as I was, my day tanked a few hours later when I received letters from DUI attorneys asking to represent me in my upcoming court trial. In between that I had a late lunch/early dinner with my mother at a Chinese restaurant. I had to give some basic ftm trans 101 since I had mentioned to her about "being a boy" but I don't think it sunk in with her that I wanted to physically transition or what that entailed. Naturally, she asked all the typical questions about body parts and while I sighed I figured I will just have to learn to get used to it.
It just sank in with me on that day just how small the ftm community is here. Makes me feel more alone than I've already been feeling, but somehow I still have this inner sense of peace telling me that I'm doing the right thing and that I'll be okay. I did a recording of myself singing both parts to Owl City's "The Saltwater Room" and laughed at how my "girl part" sounds terrible anyway. Oh well.
Sleep and I have been on and off lately, so I am going to attempt to sleep again. At least I managed to document something of my day LOL Good night...
Anyway, on to the first doctor's visit. I wasn't sure that I was going to get my first shot done that day actually. I was worried about the cost and the fact that I haven't told my dad or most of my coworkers yet, etc. My doctor's assistant told me in the exam room that there is a student that will conduct my briefing interview. I was expecting a med student around my age, but she ended up being older, but probably not by a whole lot. Late 20s to mid 30s maybe? I'm not sure. Older people love me because I always guess younger than they are. That went well and next there was a small physical exam. With all the questions she was asking me, I wondered if I was supposed to say that I was worried that all my saying "No" was actually a bad thing. I honestly didn't know if my mother's side of the family has a history of medical problems, I didn't know whether to mention that I had an uncle who was diabetic, or even if my mild congestion was anything worth concern.
Then I met my doctor who I found out that day is a Reverend in an inclusive Orthodox church. He had his black priest attire under his doctor's coat, which I found really interesting since I've only seen that on TV maybe once or twice. He got my questions answered about self-injecting, the dosage amount, taking androgel if I ever feel the need to, etc. As he was going over the results of my lab work, he mentioned that I am not immune to hepatitis A and asked if I wanted to get the shot for that taken cared of as well. At that time, I also felt the need to ask them about getting a pap smear done since I hadn't done that at all yet.
So there you have it, if yesterday was a book and I had to give it a title it would be called, "Two Shots and a Pap Smear". Personally, the T-shot was the best part of them all, but I guess I'm pretty biased about that anyway right? LOL
Oh speaking of which, it's a 200 mg dose shot administered every two weeks. It felt like a rush of cold water into my butt actually. Of course, there's no immediate effects, but for some reason I did feel calmer. Probably just relieved that I'm finally getting this started. I also found out that while the office my doctor works at deals strictly with transgender and HIV patients, I'm only the 3rd or 4th FtM their office has had. Majority of their transgendered patients are MtFs. As happy as I was, my day tanked a few hours later when I received letters from DUI attorneys asking to represent me in my upcoming court trial. In between that I had a late lunch/early dinner with my mother at a Chinese restaurant. I had to give some basic ftm trans 101 since I had mentioned to her about "being a boy" but I don't think it sunk in with her that I wanted to physically transition or what that entailed. Naturally, she asked all the typical questions about body parts and while I sighed I figured I will just have to learn to get used to it.
It just sank in with me on that day just how small the ftm community is here. Makes me feel more alone than I've already been feeling, but somehow I still have this inner sense of peace telling me that I'm doing the right thing and that I'll be okay. I did a recording of myself singing both parts to Owl City's "The Saltwater Room" and laughed at how my "girl part" sounds terrible anyway. Oh well.
Sleep and I have been on and off lately, so I am going to attempt to sleep again. At least I managed to document something of my day LOL Good night...
Sunday, June 6, 2010
Honesty is the best policy...
...even if the truth is a sonuvabitch.
"If you love something, let it go. If it comes back to you, its yours forever. If it dosent, then it was never meant to be." -- Anonymous
I'm figuring out very quickly that there's a difference between "meant to be" and "meant to last". Take my relationship history, for example. They were all meant to be because they happened, but they weren't meant to last because they didn't. The worst one is the difference between loving someone and being in love with someone. I compare it to a married couple whom one of the partners comes out as gay or trans. It devastates everyone involved once the truth comes out but...what if the truth hadn't? The partner that comes out may love their spouse so much that they were willing to suffer quietly on the inside, but how can one stand to live with themselves if they're living in pain?
I'm sick and tired of closets and the skeletons that lurk within. All I want to do is to live my life free of both, even at the cost of being seen as a traitor or an asshole. Hey, at least I can call myself out on own BS. I would rather be hated for being honest than hated for being dishonest. And honestly...I really don't care if I end up walking this path alone. There will be someone out there someday who will be able to look at what I've done and say, "You followed your heart. No one can fault you for it." Until then, people can throw all the tomatoes they want at me.
Am I really selfish for wanting to do what I feel is right? If any of my exes had been nearly as honest and upfront about their stupidity as I am about mine, then maybe I would've hated them a whole lot less. I wish someone would understand that someone didn't just show up in my life out of nowhere and caused this. The truth is that I've held on to past feelings and that has affected every relationship I've been in since. I kept trying to give my whole heart to others when I did not have a whole heart to give. People won't understand because most of them don't know about it. It wasn't for them to know.
I wish someone could see what I see. I see that I could potentially be making yet another big mistake in my life, but I believe that I will be a better person for standing up for myself. I'm not saying I'm without heart, because mines is breaking even as I write this. I'm beginning to wonder if my tear ducts are shot because I've cried so much already. And yet...I've done everything I can to be understanding of other people's thoughts and feelings...why am I not shown the same regard?
I'm not afraid of walking this path alone. At least I'm doing it with my own two feet.If someone wants to find me, they wouldn't have to look far. This invisible man is not hiding anymore.
"If you love something, let it go. If it comes back to you, its yours forever. If it dosent, then it was never meant to be." -- Anonymous
I'm figuring out very quickly that there's a difference between "meant to be" and "meant to last". Take my relationship history, for example. They were all meant to be because they happened, but they weren't meant to last because they didn't. The worst one is the difference between loving someone and being in love with someone. I compare it to a married couple whom one of the partners comes out as gay or trans. It devastates everyone involved once the truth comes out but...what if the truth hadn't? The partner that comes out may love their spouse so much that they were willing to suffer quietly on the inside, but how can one stand to live with themselves if they're living in pain?
I'm sick and tired of closets and the skeletons that lurk within. All I want to do is to live my life free of both, even at the cost of being seen as a traitor or an asshole. Hey, at least I can call myself out on own BS. I would rather be hated for being honest than hated for being dishonest. And honestly...I really don't care if I end up walking this path alone. There will be someone out there someday who will be able to look at what I've done and say, "You followed your heart. No one can fault you for it." Until then, people can throw all the tomatoes they want at me.
Am I really selfish for wanting to do what I feel is right? If any of my exes had been nearly as honest and upfront about their stupidity as I am about mine, then maybe I would've hated them a whole lot less. I wish someone would understand that someone didn't just show up in my life out of nowhere and caused this. The truth is that I've held on to past feelings and that has affected every relationship I've been in since. I kept trying to give my whole heart to others when I did not have a whole heart to give. People won't understand because most of them don't know about it. It wasn't for them to know.
I wish someone could see what I see. I see that I could potentially be making yet another big mistake in my life, but I believe that I will be a better person for standing up for myself. I'm not saying I'm without heart, because mines is breaking even as I write this. I'm beginning to wonder if my tear ducts are shot because I've cried so much already. And yet...I've done everything I can to be understanding of other people's thoughts and feelings...why am I not shown the same regard?
I'm not afraid of walking this path alone. At least I'm doing it with my own two feet.If someone wants to find me, they wouldn't have to look far. This invisible man is not hiding anymore.
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